


Summer Memories

by RedMajesty



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-24 00:31:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4898602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedMajesty/pseuds/RedMajesty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I love TURN and I love reading the stories in this fandom, especially those about Ben and Caleb.  This is my first fanfic. It's definitely not historically accurate--just something from my imagination.  I hope you like reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Summer Memories

**Author's Note:**

> I love TURN and I love reading the stories in this fandom, especially those about Ben and Caleb. This is my first fanfic. It's definitely not historically accurate--just something from my imagination. I hope you like reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Summer 1764

Except for the singing of the birds in the trees and the rustling of the warm breeze through the full summer leaves, it was silent. It was so still that Benjamin was afraid the pounding of his heart could be heard by his father and Caleb, crouched beside him behind a fallen tree. They stared at the rabbit, standing stark still, about twenty yards away, ears perked at attention.

It was a perfect summer day. The sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves, creating light and shadow. The air smelled like lilac and the sea. Benjamin gripped his rifle tightly with sweaty palms and glanced anxiously at his father. Reverend Nathanial Tallmadge had his eyes calmly fixed on the rabbit. Benjamin wanted to speak, but he knew better. His father had taken him out to the woods many times before, teaching him and his older brothers how to track deer and turkeys and rabbits, but this was the first time that Benjamin was allowed to carry one of his father’s hunting rifles. This would be his first time shooting at a live target. 

Benjamin could barely contain his nervous energy and he sensed that his friend, Caleb, was feeling the same way. It was amazing that Caleb was keeping as quiet as he was, since he was never quiet, but Ben could practically feel Caleb’s body buzzing beside him; his breathing was rapid and shallow, his eyes wide as he traded glances with Ben. They both looked at Ben’s father, whose unflinching stare had not left the rabbit.

Trusting that it was safe, the hare broke its statuesque pose and began nibbling at the grass. Reverend Tallmadge finally turned to look at his son, who was anxiously gripping his Pennsylvania rifle. It looked huge in his tiny hands. The young boys looked up at him with expectation. He gave Ben a nod of permission and encouragement. 

Slowly and carefully, Ben rested the rifle on the tree trunk in front of him and cocked the hammer. His heart was pounding and his hands felt shaky as he tried to aim. Caleb was pressed so close to him that he could feel his breath on his face. Ben remembered to take a deep breath, held it, then pulled the trigger. A loud crack rang through the silence, frightening the nearby birds out of the trees. 

“You got ‘im!” Caleb exclaimed, almost tackling Ben with his excitement. Ben realized his eyes were shut tightly. He opened them and broke into a huge smile when he saw that he had hit his target. 

“Excellent shot, Benjamin!” Reverend Tallmadge smiled proudly as he stood up and took the rifle from his son. The two boys hollered with excitement as they quickly scaled the fallen tree and ran to examine their prize. 

“You hit him clean enough, Benny! Look at that!” Caleb pointed to the almost perfectly placed bullet wound. Ben was thrilled; he could only smile from ear to ear. He couldn’t wait to show his brothers what he had accomplished. They collected the rabbit and returned to join Ben’s father, who examined it with satisfaction. “That’s fine, Benjamin, very fine. Let’s head home and I’ll show you how to dress it.”

It was a short walk to Ben’s house from the woods located on the outskirts of Setauket, their tiny coastal village on Long Island. The Tallmadges lived in a house on a hill that was right next to the town church where Reverend Tallmadge preached on Sundays. It was one of the largest and nicest homes in Setauket. Ben lived there with his four older brothers, his mother, and his father. They also had two house slaves to assist Mrs. Tallmadge with managing the household and her pack of sons. That summer, Benjamin was ten, William twelve, Samuel thirteen, Isaac fifteen, and John sixteen. Their home was full of love and noise—always noise. 

Caleb Brewster, also ten years old that summer, loved being at the Tallmadge house better than any other place in the world. At that time, Setauket was the only world he knew, but he felt happiest when he was with his best friend, Ben. Caleb didn’t have any brothers of his own, so being around the Tallmadge boys was a treat for him. The Tallmadges treated Caleb like one of their own and welcomed him into their home, day or night. 

The Brewsters lived on the other end of Setauket, near the harbor where the boats came in from Long Island Sound. The Brewsters were one of the first families to settle in Setauket and they had fished the Sound as long as anyone could remember. In contrast to the Tallmadges’, Caleb’s house was tiny and humble. Caleb’s father, Samuel Brewster, had the palsy and had grown too sick to work on the fishing boats or to maintain their small farm. Luckily, there were many other Brewster relatives nearby who made sure that Samuel’s family was cared for. Caleb’s older sister, Alice, was also fragile in health. His mother, Rebecca, worked as a seamstress in order to help make ends meet. 

From a young age, Caleb felt the burden of having to provide for his family. His uncles taught him how to farm the land, to shoot, fish, sail, and ride. The Brewsters were a tough breed; fiercely loyal, very independent, passionate, and headstrong. Caleb was no different. He had a fiery temper and reckless sense of freedom that was characteristic of his clan. 

Benjamin adored Caleb. From the moment he could remember, Caleb was by his side. Benjamin Tallmadge was a precocious and gentle soul by nature, probably owing to the fact that he had four older brothers. He complimented Caleb’s boisterous and adventurous personality like rain tempers a wildfire. Caleb taught Ben how to fish and to catch crabs, and Ben helped Caleb learn to read and do arithmetic. Caleb had been forced to stop attending school at an early age in order to work alongside his uncles, but Ben always taught Caleb his lessons after school or on the weekends. Ben was intelligent and patient and, for some reason, he seemed to be the only person who could make Caleb still and listen. 

Arriving at the Tallmadge house, they were greeted by Ben’s brothers John and Isaac, who were outside cleaning fish. “Whatchya got there, Benny?” Isaac called. Ben and Caleb ran over to them to show off their reward from an afternoon of hunting. 

Reverend Tallmadge settled himself on the front porch steps, setting his rifle beside him and lighting his pipe. He took a puff and eyed the basket of fish that his two oldest sons were busy cleaning. “Went fishing today, eh?”

“Aye,” John replied, proudly holding up a big trout. 

The reverend took a puff and was quiet for a moment. “Finish that Latin I gave you?” 

John and Isaac stopped cleaning the fish and traded glances, avoiding making eye contact with their father. “Uh, no sir, not yet.” Their father took another drag off his pipe and remained silent. The boys knew they were in trouble. John tried to change the subject. “We caught enough fish for dinner--

“Sure, it’s not me who’s failing Latin,” Reverend Tallmadge shrugged his shoulders and continued as if he hadn’t heard anything. John looked down at the fish in his hands, ashamed. He would be entering his junior year at Yale in the fall, but had failed Latin last term. Earning the disappointment of their father was something none of the Tallmadge boys liked to do, and John had promised to study during the summer in an attempt to improve his grades. Isaac, who would be entering his sophomore year, had himself barely scraped by and managed to pass. 

“You can both get plenty of practice by tutoring Samuel, starting tonight” the reverend ordered, holding up a hand to silence their protests. Defeated, the boys quietly went back to cleaning the fish. They knew there was no use in arguing. 

“Tutor me in what?” Samuel inquired, hearing his name spoken. He and William had abandoned their game of horseshoes and came running over to see what they were discussing. Samuel would be joining his older brothers at Yale in the fall. All of the Tallmadge boys would be educated there, just as their father had been, and his father before him. It was a family tradition and Benjamin knew that some day he would study there as well. For now, all he could think about was his rabbit.

“Look what I shot!” he proudly exclaimed, holding it up for Samuel and William to admire. 

“Kind of puny, ain’t it?” William teased, watching Ben’s smile dissolve. Poor Benjamin, being the youngest, was the only one who twelve-year-old William could get away with bullying in a family of five brothers. 

“He took it clean with one shot!” Caleb quickly jumped to Ben’s defense. This silenced William, who had been afraid of Caleb Brewster ever since Caleb had hit him in the eye for making Ben cry two years ago. 

“Ben, did you shoot that all by yourself?” they heard a woman’s voice exclaim, and they saw Ben’s mother standing in the doorway. He proudly rushed over to show her, beaming. Ben’s mother was a beautiful woman; she had the same chestnut colored hair and deep blue eyes that Benjamin had. She always wore a warm smile and spoke kind words. Ben looked just like her and had inherited her gentle demeanor. “I’m so proud of you!” she said, giving her youngest son a hug and then wrapping Caleb in one, too. 

Seeing her two oldest boys’ dismayed faces, she exchanged a knowing glance with her husband. “Boys, you’re needed with that fish in the kitchen for dinner, or Jessie’s going to give you a hiding!” 

“Yes ma’am!” John and Isaac welcomed the chance to escape their father’s presence and they gathered up the fish and were off in a flash, running toward the back of the house to find Jessie, the housemaid. Samuel and William lost interest and walked off to finish their game. 

Happy to be alone again with Reverend Tallmadge, Benjamin and Caleb sat cross-legged at the foot of the steps and watched him skin the rabbit with his knife. Every time he used that distinctive knife, the boys pleaded for stories. This time was no exception. 

“Papa, will you tell us about fighting the Iroquois again?” Ben begged, even though he and Caleb had heard his stories a hundred times. They would take turns holding his knife while they listened to Reverend Tallmadge describe the Iroquois and Mohawk warriors. They loved to hear about the way the warriors looked and how they fought, their hatchets and bows and arrows, how they were feared and respected by French and British officers alike. Especially, they loved to hear about the Iroquois chieftain, Half King, who could speak French and English and was as revered as King Louis or King George. 

Ben and Caleb could sit for hours, enraptured by Reverend Tallmadge’s stories of his days as a soldier in the King’s Army during the French and Indian War. Caleb, in particular, wanted to know every detail about the Indian warriors. Benjamin was much more interested in hearing about his father’s feats as an officer, admiring and revering him. 

“I want to grow up to be a soldier, too!” Benjamin would always proclaim, but his father would never share in his excitement. 

“I pray that day will never come for you, Benjamin. It’s a serious business taking another man’s life. I made an oath and promise to God after that war ended that I would never do it again. I pray that you will never have to do the same.” Reverend Tallmadge took another puff of his pipe and settled into silent contemplation. The boys knew that story time was over. 

…

Summer 1769

Caleb couldn’t wait to be done with his chores for the day. The summer sun was hot, and his body ached from hoeing rows in the dirt for the beans he had spent all day planting with his uncles. His mess of curly brown hair was wet with sweat that dripped down his face and off of the tip of his nose as he worked. At 14, he was growing strong from hard labor. His arms were growing muscular and his frame stocky and solid. His body was becoming that of a man, but his mind was still more that of a child. As soon as he finished and had his uncles’ blessing, he tossed down the hoe and took off running for the church.

Approaching the white clapboard building, he spotted an open window and hoisted himself up to peer inside. He saw Ben seated at a desk, reading, alone in the quiet peacefulness of the sanctuary. Ben was growing taller by the day and his long legs looked like they could barely fit under the desk. His jacket hung on the chair behind him, his sleeves were rolled to the elbow, and his long hair fell into his face while he read. 

Caleb, unnoticed, watched him for a minute. “Hey, Tallboy!” he finally shouted, cutting through the silence and making Ben jump.

“Caleb, you scared me half to death!” Ben scolded. Caleb’s infectious laugh filled the church as he hoisted himself through the window and walked over to where Ben was sitting. 

“Whatcha doin’?” Caleb asked, picking up one of Ben’s books and wrinkling his nose. 

“Studying.”

“Why?”

“Caleb, I leave for Yale in a week.”

“Yeah, well you still have a week. Let’s go swimming, I’m dying from this heat!” Caleb exclaimed, dramatically collapsing into an empty pew. 

“I don’t know, I still have Greek and—

“C’mon Benny, you’re killing me! It’s summer for Christ’s sake!” Caleb looked around, half expecting Ben’s father to box his ears for taking the Lord’s name in vain inside his church. This made Ben break out in a smile, and he reluctantly pushed his books to the side. “Let’s go.”

They made straight for the creek as fast as they could. Reaching the riverbank, they quickly shed their clothes and jumped in. The water was cool and crystal clear, offering respite from the heat. When they’d finished swimming, they dressed and laid on the grassy riverbank, drying off in the sun and eating blackberries from a nearby bush in full bloom. 

“I can’t believe you’re leaving so soon.” Caleb finally spoke it. They had been avoiding the subject all summer. 

“I know. Father’s taking William and me to New Haven next Sunday.”

“You’ll make all sorts of new friends and forget about me.” Caleb threw a rotten berry into the water in disgust. 

“I will not!” Ben protested. “I’ll be back at Christmas and in the summer, of course. Besides, even if I were still around, you’ll be busy on the boats all day, anyway.” Caleb was going to start an apprenticeship on the whaling boats in a few weeks. His family was too poor to afford to send him to Yale for further education. He would have to learn a trade to earn his livelihood. Caleb was born for adventure, anyway--not to be stuck behind a desk. 

Caleb suddenly took out his favorite ivory-handled pocketknife and grabbed Ben’s hand. “Let’s make a pact.”

“A pact?”

“That we’ll always be together until we die.”

Ben cautiously eyed Caleb’s knife. “What kind of pact?”

“Like what the Mohawk warriors would do. Mix our blood together.”

Ben snatched his hand back. “Caleb—

“I’d do it for you.”

Ben saw the seriousness in Caleb’s face. He slowly held out his hand. “Ok.”

Caleb took Ben’s hand and pressed the blade into his palm, making a small laceration. Ben winced in pain. Caleb quickly cut his own hand without flinching. Then he grasped Ben’s hand and smeared their blood together. He didn’t want to let it go. 

“There,” Caleb solemnly pronounced. “Now we’re brothers.” 

As they washed their hands in the creek, Ben turned to Caleb and said, “I thought that before we mixed our blood, you know.”

“Thought what?”

“That you were my brother.” 

Caleb couldn’t look at him. “Me too,” he replied, and paused before grinning. “I just wanted to see if you would let me cut your hand.” 

Ben pushed him into the water. 

…

 

Summer 1771

Early that June, Benjamin was finishing up his sophomore year at Yale when he received a letter from his father, urgently delivered by overnight post rider. Caleb’s father had died from the palsy. Ben talked to the Dean and was given special permission to be excused three days early in order to return to Setauket for the funeral. 

The day of the funeral was rainy and unseasonably cool. It seemed as if the entire town had gathered in the churchyard to listen to Reverend Tallmadge give the benediction. Everyone in Setauket had known Samuel Brewster. They all grieved for his wife, his son, and his ailing daughter, whom they knew would not be far behind her father on the road to heaven. 

Ben stood next to his mother, listening to his father’s voice and the patter of the raindrops against his umbrella. He was much taller than her now. At sixteen, he had already grown as tall as his father. He wore his finest black coat, which was growing too small for him, and his long hair was pulled back into a small braid tied with ribbon, as was the fashion at Yale.

He couldn’t stop looking at Caleb, although it pained him to do so. His friend stood across from him on the other side of the large hole in the ground. Even still, Ben could see Caleb’s red-rimmed eyes. He hadn’t looked at Ben once. His stare was fixed on the pine box, adorned with colorful wildflowers and greenery picked by the women of the town. Caleb stood in the rain without any covering, allowing his modest wool jacket to become soaked and his mop of curly hair to drip wet. His hands rested on the back of the chair where his mother sat sobbing quietly. Her sobs joined with the cries and sniffles of others to create a heartbreaking chorus with the rain. Above it all, Reverend Tallmadge’s deep voice bid God to let His servant, Samuel, into His kingdom. 

The ceremony ended with a peaceful hymn, but Ben noticed that Caleb didn’t join in the singing. He watched as Caleb joined his uncles and helped lower the box down into the ground. Ben thought that Caleb looked older than sixteen. 

When it was over, Ben was greeted by many of the townspeople who were eager to shake his hand and compliment him on his studies at Yale. He politely acquiesced, following the example of this father and brothers, but the entire time he was distracted, searching the crowd for Caleb. He was nowhere to be seen. 

Ben knew where to find him. As soon as he could break away, he started walking toward the harbor. Go to the sea, and you’ll find Caleb. Ben noticed that the town square was unusually quiet as he walked through it. Everything had shut down for the funeral. The rain had let up and the afternoon sun was trying to peak through the dark clouds. 

He stopped when he saw Caleb’s silhouette sitting on the edge of the dock, his feet dangling into the water, staring out at the sea. For a moment, Ben hesitated, wondering if he should leave his friend to have some time alone. But he hadn’t seen Caleb in many months and his excitement got the better of him. 

Caleb didn’t turn his head to look around when he heard footsteps approaching on the dock behind him. He knew Ben’s footsteps anywhere. He quickly sniffed and wiped his eyes, however. Ben sat down next to him. Caleb’s eyes, usually twinkling and full of life, were puffy and red and avoided Ben’s sympathetic gaze. For a few minutes, they didn’t speak, only listened to the sloshing of the waves against the wood of the dock and the occasional cry of a gull flying overhead. 

“I’m sorry, Caleb,” Ben finally spoke. He wanted to say so much, but that was all he could get out. 

Caleb nodded and clenched his jaw to hold back a fresh set of tears. 

“Was it bad?” 

Caleb sniffed and looked at his hands. “Nah. It was quick. He went quick.”

They were quiet again. Although they hadn’t seen each other in months, it was as if no time was lost between them. They immediately understood one another without having to use words. 

Finally, Caleb looked at Ben. “I’m going to Greenland.”

Ben was caught off guard and didn’t know what to say. He could only manage a look of confusion. 

“There’s a whale boat,” Caleb continued, seeing his friend’s expression. “Leavin’ next week. Going to Greenland, London…a few other places. They say I’m ready to come along if I want to.”

Ben felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. “But your mother, your sister--

“They’re moving in with my uncle’s family. They can help my mother look after Alice. I’ll be able to make a lot of money to help them if I go,” Caleb explained.

Ben tried to comprehend the idea of Caleb being so far away, on such a dangerous journey. “How long will you be gone?”

Caleb looked out at the waves. “At least a year. Maybe two.”

Ben couldn’t believe it. He was sure Caleb could hear his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. They didn’t speak for what seemed like an eternity. The sun came out from behind a cloud and cast a beam down onto the water like a spotlight. 

“Where do you think you go after you die?” Caleb suddenly asked. 

Ben shrugged, used to Caleb’s random questions. “To Heaven, I suppose. That’s what my father says. And The Bible.”

“And is that what you believe?” 

Ben considered this question for a minute. He’d never given it much thought before. He had been taught his entire life to believe in God and His saving grace. “Yes.”

Caleb was quiet for a minute. “What if you go to Heaven when you die and I don’t?”

“Don’t be silly, Caleb. You’ll go there if you trust in Him.”

“I don’t trust in anybody,” Caleb said coldly. “Only in myself. And you.”

Ben examined his friend. With each passing summer, Caleb was turning into someone that Ben had trouble recognizing. A little more independent, a little more radical, a bit more hardened. But Ben wasn’t afraid. He could still see Caleb underneath the front that he put up-- the same Caleb who would do anything for him; who had promised to be with him forever. 

“I’m gonna miss you,” Ben spoke earnestly, putting his hand on Caleb’s shoulder. This time Caleb’s eyes filled up with tears that were not for his father. He wanted to tell Ben that he was the only person left in this world that he truly cared about. He envied the way that Ben could so easily and honestly express his feelings. Ben had always worn his heart on his sleeve. 

There was a lot that Caleb wanted to say, but could not, so the only thing he could do was give Ben a hug. Even though he had just lost his father, it pained him more to think about losing his best friend. Two years apart seemed like an eternity. 

…

Summer 1773

Ben barely recognized Setauket when he returned home upon graduating from Yale. He hadn’t been home in two years, choosing to spend the past two summers in New Haven with friends from school. He returned to find his hometown filled with British militia and the citizens of Setauket growing weary of their presence. Much had changed on Long Island since he was a boy. 

His parents were glad to see him come home. His father was extremely proud that Ben had graduated near the top of his class, out-performing all of his brothers in his scholastic achievements. Though he had hoped that Benjamin would follow in his footsteps by becoming a clergyman, Ben had instead chosen to become a schoolteacher, and was due to take over as the schoolmaster in Setauket in the fall. 

“Let me take a look at you,” Reverend Tallmadge greeted his son when he walked into the house, shaking his hand and looking him in the eye. Ben had grown into a fine young man, even taller than himself, and more handsome than any of his brothers. His figure was athletic and his demeanor confident and amiable. His mother made him blush when she insisted that he would be the most eligible gentleman on Long Island. 

They sat down to a fine supper that Jessie had prepared especially for him. Ben and his father discussed the augmented presence of British soldiers in Setauket. During his final year at Yale, Ben had heard all kinds of revolutionary opinions and sentiments spoken by his classmates. He hadn’t known that he would return home to find that the same sentiments were starting to arise in Setauket.

“Some of the heads of the local families have signed a petition in support of a Continental Congress,” Reverend Tallmadge explained. “The Strongs, the Smiths, the Brewsters…and I’ll be adding my name to it, Benjamin.”

“I wish you wouldn’t,” Mrs. Tallmadge sighed. “It’s only going to bring trouble upon this house.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes, contemplating, until Jessie broke the silence while clearing the dishes. “He’s back, you know.”

“Who’s back, Jessie?” Mrs. Tallmadge inquired.

“Mr. Caleb. Just last week.” 

Ben sat straight up and broke out into a smile. He looked at his father, who nodded in understanding. “You’re excused,” the reverend chuckled, but Ben was already out the door and hadn’t even heard him. 

He walked as fast as he could down the hill toward town, suppressing the urge to break out into a sprint, which he didn’t think dignified for a man of eighteen. He hadn’t seen or corresponded with Caleb in nearly two years. His only knowledge of his whereabouts had come second-hand from Caleb’s uncles, who occasionally received letters from Caleb and passed any news on to Ben’s father. 

When he reached the door of Caleb’s house, he was out of breath from fast walking and excitement. He knocked loudly several times, but there was no answer. He peaked in the window, but saw no one inside. Suddenly, a shout from the field next to Caleb’s house startled him. “You’ll likely find him down at the docks!” 

Ben squinted against the sunlight and recognized one of Caleb’s uncles, weeding the garden. “Thank you!” Ben shouted back and promptly set off toward the harbor. 

“Welcome back, young Tallmadge!” he heard the man call after him. 

There were several boats docked in the harbor for the evening, but only one whaleboat. As Ben approached the ship and scanned the deck, he spotted a familiar mess of curly brown hair on a man’s body he hardly recognized. The man was short, but solid, and sported a full beard. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing muscular arms as he helped haul heavy ropes. One of the sailors spoke to the man and a familiar laugh filled the air that tugged at something in Ben’s chest. 

The man had his back turned to him. Ben stood on the dock, unsure what to do or say. Finally, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted “Oi, Brewster!” 

Caleb heard his name and stood still. He knew that voice. He quickly dropped the rope and spun around. He saw a tall, handsome man, dressed in a fine jacket and wearing a familiar smile, standing on the dock. For a brief moment, Caleb was rendered speechless at the site of him. Then he came to his senses and hollered “Benny!” so loudly that the other members of the crew standing nearby stopped what they were doing to stare. 

Caleb was over the edge of the boat, onto the dock, and had Ben wrapped in a hug before Ben could even return his greeting. They hugged and laughed and looked at each other, then hugged some more. 

“I didn’t recognize you with that beard!” Ben laughed.

“Jesus, how tall are ya gonna get, Benny Boy?” Caleb pushed him away to look at him. He couldn’t get enough of the sight of him. 

“God, it’s good to see you, Caleb,” Ben hugged him again. “When did you get back?”

“Just last week. You?”

“Just today.” 

“A Yale graduate, eh?”

“Aye.”

“Tell me now, what have you graduated to become?”

“A teacher.”

Caleb smiled softly, remembering how Ben used to diligently and patiently teach him his lessons. “You’ll be a great teacher, Benny.” 

Ben smiled a smile that made Caleb’s knees feel weak. For a minute they just looked at one another, unsure what to say or do.

“C’mon, let’s celebrate your graduation!” Caleb smiled, clapping a hand on Ben’s shoulder, the familiar mischievous twinkle in his brown eyes. “I’ve got something for just the occasion!” He climbed back onto the ship and disappeared down below, returning with a jug. They sat down on the dock, dangling their feet over the edge. The sun was beginning to set. Caleb took a long swig from the jug and then handed it to Ben. 

Ben took a sip and choked and sputtered. The liquid burned his throat all the way down and made his eyes water. “What is THAT?” 

Caleb laughed. “Madeira. Portuguese. Good stuff, eh?” He took the jug back and took another long pull. Ben took the opportunity to examine him more closely. He noticed a tattoo on Caleb’s inner forearm and that his ear was pierced with a metal stud. He wore a loose scarf tied around his neck but his shirt was unbuttoned at the top and his sleeves were rolled to the elbow. He wore a hatchet at his belt and a pair of well-worn black leather boots. His body language projected an air of careless freedom. 

“What was Greenland like?” Ben asked, in awe of the man his friend had become. So different from the men he had known at Yale. 

Caleb wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and smiled. “Greenland? It ain’t green.”

“No?”

“Nope. And there’s whales out there bigger than your daddy’s church.”

Ben raised his eyebrows in disbelief. 

“And the women in Spain have dark hair and fair skin and can do things you wouldn’t believe.”

Ben blushed deeply and hoped Caleb wouldn’t notice. No such luck.

Caleb grinned knowingly and teased, “Still a virgin, eh? You’re too good, Benny. Hard to believe, with your good looks, that the women aren’t throwing themselves at you.” 

Ben gave him a playful shove and stole the jug back from him to try another sip. “Who says they aren’t?” 

Now it was Caleb’s turn to admire Ben. He quickly decided that Benjamin Tallmadge was one of the most beautiful people that he had ever laid eyes on. His brown hair had softened in color, but his eyes were as blue as ever. His jaw was strong and he had grown tall and muscular, filling out the lean and gangly frame he remembered Ben having as a teenager. He had an air of sophistication and refinement that spoke of his time among scholars and poets. Caleb felt the differences between them keenly. 

“How’re your brothers?”

“Good! John’s a physician, Isaac a barrister, William is a banker, and Samuel, God love him, is a minister.”

“And Benny’s a schoolteacher.” Caleb added, grinning.

“Haha, yes. I’ll be the schoolmaster in Setauket come the fall. And what about you, Caleb? You seem as if you’ll go wherever the wind takes you.”

Caleb watched Ben take another long sip from the jug. “Nah, I think I’ll be staying put for awhile.” 

…

Summer 1775

Setauket was still reeling from the news of the events at Lexington and Concord. The tavern was abuzz with talk of war as Caleb and Ben entered and sat down. The more ale that Ben consumed, the more riled up he got about the situation. The more that Caleb drank, the more annoyed he became. 

“Can we please talk about something else?” Caleb asked, ordering them another round. He cared nothing about war and had no desire to become involved in politics. It was Ben’s last day of his first year of teaching, and Caleb had meant for them to celebrate and have a good time. The events of the day, however, had Ben uptight and distracted. 

Caleb did his best to try to change the subject and lighten the mood. “So Benny, which one will you have, maybe that cute little redhead? Or the Martin girl? She doesn’t have much money but I hear she can—“

“Caleb, what are you talking about?” Ben cut him off.

Caleb grinned. “Well, you have to make up your mind about courting one of them. Who’s it gonna be? All the single women in a 30-mile radius are after you. I saw you talking to Ms. Stewart outside your schoolhouse the other day—“

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ben dismissed him, finishing another ale. He was irritated that Caleb wanted to talk about women at such a time. “Who cares about that? There’s going to be a war, Caleb.”

Caleb laughed and took another mug from the waitress. “You need to loosen up and get laid, Ben. The war’s not coming to Setauket tomorrow.” 

“No, but I’m going to the war tomorrow,” Ben mumbled under his breath, his brow stormy as he looked down into his mug.   
Caleb’s mug halted in mid air on the way to his lips. He felt his stomach drop. He hoped the liquor was affecting his senses. “Huh?”

Ben didn’t look at him. “I’m going to enlist tomorrow.” 

Caleb stared at his friend for a moment, then chuckled and shook his head. “You’ve had too much to drink, Tallboy.” 

Irritated, Ben rose abruptly from the table and walked out. Caleb looked after him in disbelief. A wave of panic began to wash over him as he realized Ben was serious. He quickly placed some coins on the table, grabbed his hat, and hurried after him. 

The town was quiet except for the noise spilling out of the tavern into the warm, still night air. He saw Ben silhouetted by the light of the moon, walking unsteadily down the road and stumbling every now and then. 

Caleb ran to catch up and put his hands on Ben’s chest to stop him. “Ben, stop. What are you talking about? Are you crazy?”

Annoyed, his head throbbing from the alcohol, Ben pushed Caleb’s hands off of his chest and continued walking. “Leave me alone, Caleb. You don’t understand.”

Now it was Caleb’s turn to be annoyed. He grabbed the sleeve of Ben’s jacket and spun him around. Ben tried to pull away from his grasp, but Caleb was too strong. “Let me go, I said!”

“Just, stop, alright? Listen to me, Ben!” Caleb struggled to steady Ben, who was falling over but still managed to punch Caleb squarely in the eye and send him to the ground. 

Ben seemed in shock at what he had done. “Jesus, Caleb, I didn’t mean to—“

Caleb held his eye and felt frustration welling up in his chest. “So what, you’re just going to go off and get yourself killed, then? Go off and be some kind of hero?”

“I’m going to fight for what I believe in,” Ben replied indignantly. “For what is right.”

Caleb was on his feet and gave Ben a shove. He’d had too much to drink himself and his temper was easily riled. “You think you know what war is? It’s not about what’s right or wrong, it’s about killing one another until no one’s left. Ask your father! He’d tell you not go, Ben.”

This comment rubbed Ben the wrong way. “This doesn’t concern my father or anyone else, Caleb. This is a decision I’m making for myself. Now let me pass.”

Caleb grabbed onto the lapels of Ben’s coat, keeping him from getting past him. “And what about the ones who care about you? Huh? What about the ones who love you, Ben?”

Ben stopped struggling and held still as Caleb leaned in and gently kissed him. Warmth flooded over his body and his legs felt weak. He felt he would’ve fallen to the ground if Caleb hadn’t been holding onto his jacket. 

Caleb hadn’t planned on kissing Ben. He was drunk, but he felt a certain clarity of thinking when he did it. The thought of Ben enlisting and possibly losing him forever was more than Caleb could bear. He cared about Ben more than anyone in the world, more than himself. 

Part of Ben was enjoying the kiss, but another part of him panicked and he pushed Caleb away. Caleb’s head throbbed from the punch, but his heart hurt more as he watched Ben walk down the road. 

The next morning, Caleb woke up late with a terrible headache, but he still went first thing to Ben’s house. He needed to apologize. He needed to talk to him about what happened. About the kiss, and how he’d been drunk, and how he was scared to lose him, and how he admired him for following his convictions and wanting to enlist. His thoughts were as jumbled and messy as his hair as he knocked on the front door. 

Reverend Tallmadge answered the door. “Caleb!”

“Good morning, Reverend. I need to talk to Ben.”

“He left about an hour ago. Said he was going to York City to enlist. Broke his mother’s heart, I’m afraid.” The reverend eyed Caleb’s disheveled appearance. “What in God’s name happened to your eye?”

“It’s nothing. Just a disagreement with another sailor,” Caleb mumbled, avoiding the reverend’s stare. He had always been able to tell when Caleb was lying. 

“Ben didn’t tell you he was going to enlist?” 

Caleb kept his eyes on the ground. “He told me.”

Reverend Tallmadge sighed heavily. “I knew I couldn’t stop him. He has to follow his destiny. As we all must. Please pray for him, Caleb.” 

When the door softly clicked shut, Caleb turned around and sat down on the front porch steps. He felt numb inside. Like his soul had been stolen and only an empty shell remained. He sat there for what felt like an hour before realizing that he was late for work and the boats would be leaving soon. 

He quickly returned home, but instead of putting on his clothes for work, he packed his bag, put his hatchet on his belt and his pistol on his saddle, and started riding for York City. 

...

 

Winter 1776

When Ben jumped into the icy water of the Delaware River in order to save the swivel gun, it was all Caleb could do not to jump in after him. He helped the other men pull him back into the boat, and breathed a sigh of relief that Ben had not drowned. The feeling of relief was brief, however, because he knew they had only minutes before hypothermia would set in and Ben would be in trouble. 

Ben was already in and out of consciousness as Caleb struggled to pull his wet clothes off of him. “Row faster, men!” Caleb shouted, trying to keep his voice as calm as he could even though he was the most terrified he had ever been in his life. He slapped Ben’s face to keep him awake, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. 

It seemed an eternity until they pulled ashore. While the men scrambled to build a fire, Caleb stripped the last of Ben’s clothes off him and wrapped him in his own coat. Ben’s skin was ice white and his lips were blue. His wet hair was frozen. He had lost consciousness, but Caleb saw he was still breathing. It started to snow. 

The men found some blankets in their packs and while Caleb dried Ben off by the fire and wrapped him up, he softly mumbled every prayer he could remember. He lamented that he hadn’t paid better attention in church as a boy, since he could recall only three prayers. He repeated them over and over while he watched his friend struggle for his life. 

The rest of the troops moved onward to Trenton—they had their orders, but Caleb stayed behind and never left Ben’s side. Day and night, he tended the fire and made sure it never went out. He made a makeshift lean-to shelter to block them from the winter wind and snow. He put rocks on the fire to warm them and then slipped them between the blankets. He caught a rabbit and skinned it, putting the fur around Ben’s head like a hat to trap in his heat. He tried everything he could think of. Every trick he had ever learned. Mostly, he prayed. 

Two days passed, and still Ben did not wake up. By the third night, Caleb was physically exhausted from lack of sleep and mentally exhausted from worry. He built the fire up to last for a few hours, then slipped under the blankets and nestled up close to Ben. He could feel the heat coming from Ben’s body, could see that his skin was pink, could feel the faint pulse at his wrist. He would wake up. He had to wake up. 

Caleb fought the urge to sleep that was heavy upon him. The woods were silent and still; no animal stirred, no bird chirped. It was too cold. Caleb shivered and tried to think of warm things. Sunshine. Flowers. Bees. Fireflies. Corn taller than him. His mind drifted off to Setauket in the summertime…when he and Ben were just boys. Safe and happy. And warm. 

“Hey Ben, remember when you shot that rabbit?” Caleb spoke the thought out loud, trying to keep himself awake. The childhood memory popped into his head like it had happened yesterday. 

Ben didn’t stir, but Caleb kept talking, recalling the details of that pleasant day. He remembered other summers, too. Remembered Reverend Tallmadge’s knife and how Ben’s mother’s hug felt. Remembered swimming in the creek and becoming blood brothers. Remembered his father dying, and how blue Ben’s eyes looked when he stood on the dock. He drifted off into the most peaceful sleep he had had in months.


End file.
